


Doom

by Xanoka



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Professors, Hogwarts Staff Meetings, Humor, Sex Education, idk - Freeform, kind of crack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:52:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3871024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanoka/pseuds/Xanoka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dumbledore has an exciting proposal for a few well-needed additions to the Hogwarts curriculum.  His Heads of Houses, however, are less than impressed....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You cannot be serious, Dumbledore.”

Snape stood, hand on the table before him to emphasise his point and, for once, the popular opinion of the other professors seemed to be on his side. This would have been heartening, were it not for the ominously winsome twinkle in his employer’s eye. This did not bode well for a sane outcome to the staff meeting.

“On the contrary, Severus, I am being most serious. Miss Granger makes an excellent point. I have long felt that we could do more to better integrate our muggle born students into the student body, and to help students from wizarding families to appreciate the contributions muggle society can make to our own.”

“That’s all very well, Albus,” Minerva interjected, pinching the bridge of her nose. “But I’m sure Miss Granger only meant to suggest a – a class of some sort, or a club for… the appreciation of muggle or wizarding culture. Not _this_.” She waved her hand dismissively at her copy of the heinous proposal.

“Actually, Minerva, I think you’ll find that Miss Granger specifically mentions health and physical well-being as an area we neglect here at Hogwarts. And, I’m afraid, I must agree with her. There’s very little to physically stimulate our students beyond –,”

“Running for their lives,” Snape muttered in an undertone.

“– Beyond Quidditch,” Dumbledore continued seamlessly, eyes twinkling merrily. “And that’s only really open to the more athletically gifted. We must seek to be more inclusive.”

“But surely, Albus, the students’ education is more related to _intellectual_ stimulation, rather than the physical.” Filius interjected. “ _Mind over matter_ , as they say. And in any case, the students certainly exert themselves working with Pomona.” He nodded at Sprout. He was looking a little worried and Severus could not blame him. With his small stature, he was hardly physically equipped to keep up with his students’ exercise regime.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore seemed pleased by this comment.

“You’re right, Filius, as educators our prime goal _is_ , of course, our students’ acquisition of knowledge. But, you know, Miss Granger’s letter inspired me to do some research and, well –.” He heaved a bag bursting with books onto the table. “As you can see, there is rather a lot of muggle research on the benefits conferred on a sound mind by a healthy body. And not just physically healthy, either! The emotional health of our students is of paramount importance. I fear our care of our charges has lacked a certain _pastoral_ element.”

As Minerva, Filius, Pomona and even Poppy bristled, Dumbledore cheerfully produced another innocuous looking pile of papers and began to distribute them. Severus hated them on sight.

He had thought forcing all teachers to participate in a compulsory physical education programme with their students was bad enough. But the twinkle was threatening to turn into a supernova. Clearly, they had barely touched the tip of the iceberg of whatever horrors Dumbledore had in store.

Grudgingly, he pulled his sheet towards himself with the very tip of his finger. He looked at it. And he was saved from the necessity of making a violent scene by Minerva beating him to the punch.

“Albus, _no_!” She spluttered, apparently unable to find further words to express her horror. The other heads of houses all murmured in distressed accord, though Severus noticed Babbage seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face.

Dumbledore didn’t even try. He smiled broadly as he continued. “I know this proposal seems somewhat _radical_ , Minerva. I myself was surprised. But you know the Minister has been owling me frequently about this Muggle-born Rights pressure group, and even the Board of Governors agree that it would be expedient to make a gesture of good will. Initiating one or other of these schemes would show the world that here at Hogwarts we are committed to breaching the rift between pure blood and muggle-born families. Implementing Muggle wisdom gleaned from their education system really seems to me to be the simplest approach. I really must submit one or other to the Board for approval. Though, naturally, I brought it to you all for discussion first.”

It was a noose, Severus realised, with a growing sense of doom. He glanced sideways at the rest of the Faculty. Some of his colleagues seemed to be having trouble processing. Babbling was mouthing the damned words as if they were a couple of her hitherto undiscovered Ancient Runes. A few looked indignant on his behalf. Most looked amused, casting sideways glances at him, Minerva, Filius and Pomona.

“ _Albus_!” Pomona moaned, recognising defeat.

Because of course, when it came down to a vote, all of his traitorous colleagues would much prefer to subject the Heads of Houses to this awkward, humiliating _punishment_ (for what he was not sure), than submit to a programme of physical exercise themselves. And he, along with his comrades in suffering, was vastly outnumbered.

“Albus,” Minerva tried again, being a true Gryffindor and therefore unable to recognise a hopeless cause. “Albus, really! Counselling I can understand but…” her mouth twisted. Poppy patted her hand sympathetically, though she looked markedly pleased to have escaped their fate.

Minerva breathed deeply and uttered the fatal words.

“ _Sex_ education?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Dumbledore implements his new programme, the reactions of the student body are mixed.

“This is all your fault, Hermione.”

Ron collapsed into his seat at the Gryffindor table and allowed his head to hit the table with a resounding thud. He had just returned from rereading the large, garishly displayed notice board in the Entrance Hall for the seventh time. Unfortunately, it continued to advertise the very same notice that had appeared overnight in the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione looked like she was going to protest, and then deflated miserably.

“I didn’t think… I didn’t think it would come to this! I only wrote that letter to Dumbledore because I thought he might – might share my interest in helping muggle born students. I thought he’d let me start a club, or something. I didn’t think… I never thought… I was only trying to help!”

Harry groaned and allowed his head to join Ron’s on the dining table.

As horrible as this new situation was, he couldn’t really bring himself to feel angry with Hermione. It was just like S.P.E.W. all over again. _Poor Hermione_ , he told himself sternly.

Besides, Hermione really didn’t need any more anger directed at her at the moment.

Ever since they’d since they’d woken to find the thrice-damned notice in the common room she’d been receiving death glares from every student third year and above. Apparently, it was common knowledge within the House that Hermione had sent a letter to Dumbledore, and that these were the results. It was all over the school by lunchtime and now angry mutterings were starting to spread across the Great Hall.

It also explained the surprising hostility of some of their teachers.

He had just _known_ something was off. McGonagall was sharper than usual, Sprout pointedly ignored Hermione during Herbology, and even Flitwick had frowned and snapped at her. Potions had been hell, naturally. Snape had somehow reached new depths of malice.

And it wasn’t even Harry’s fault! He pushed that happy thought away guiltily and decided it was time to begin consoling his friend.

As someone at the Ravenclaw table stood up so he could glower more easily at Hermione’s hunched shoulders, Harry sighed and patted her back sympathetically.

The third week of term and it was already business as usual.

“I suppose, it could be worse.” Ron finally spoke, his voice muffled by the table top.

“ _How_ could it be worse?” Neville demanded, face pale with horror.

“Well, you know, we could be in Slytherin. Imagine having to talk to _Snape_ about… you know. Funny business.” His ears had gone completely red by the time he’d finished.

Several people sitting nearby snorted with laughter, Ginny hardest of all.

“Seriously, Ron. Do you get _all_ your vocabulary from Mum? Call a spade a spade!” She smirked and wriggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Another round of sniggers swept their end of the table and Ron spluttered, scandalised.

Hermione, however, was frowning at him uncertainly.

“Ron,” she began hesitantly. “You did _read_ the notice, didn’t you?”

He snorted. “Yeah, course.”

“It’s just that, you do know that you won’t he having your – your _counselling_ session with Professor McGonagall, right?”

Ron’s heads snapped up to stare at her aghast, leaving Harry to ask the obvious question, dread pooling in his stomach.

“What do you mean? Who else would we be having them with?”

Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, the Board of Governors decided that it would be – _inappropriate_ for Heads of Houses to counsel students of the opposite gender so…”

“You’ll be having your sessions with Snape or Flitwick,” Angelina finished, flopping into the seat across from Hermione.

“I was just about to tell them, Angelina,” Hermione complained crossly.

Angelina was saved from answering by Fred and George appearing at her shoulder.

“Hermione, be gentle,” Fred said. “Our Angelina’s had a hard morning. She had _her_ session with McGonagall not an hour ago.” This immediately captured everyone’s attention.

“How was it, Angelina?” Ginny asked in a hushed tone, as if speaking to a war veteran.

Angelina raised her eyes wearily from her plate. In the moments since Fred’s announcement quite a crowd had gathered, leaning over the shoulders of the seated students, drawn by the magnetism of Hogwarts gossip. She sighed.

“It was horrible. Most embarrassing ten minutes of my life. Even worse than that time Katie and I got all those feathers and – well, never mind.” She flushed and ploughed on, determinedly ignoring her spluttering friend and the twins’ looks of intrigue. “I mean, to be fair, McGonagall tried to be nice about it. She offered me a biscuit and all. But you know McGonagall. She doesn’t really do nice… and she was _obviously_ way out of her depth.”

“What do you mean?” Alicia breathed.

“Well, I don’t know how _qualified_ she is to be giving this sort of advice, if you know what I mean. It all sounded like something out of a book, you know? ‘You are in a safe place,’ and everything. And it’s stupid anyway. I mean, who’s really going to tell such personal stuff to someone like McGonagall. I swear, she’d put you in detention. And I don’t even want to think about where she was getting her actual advice from.”

There was a collective shudder.

“Well, there must be some literature they’re using, mustn’t there?” Hermione said slowly. “They must be using a pamphlet or a book, or something, surely?”

Fred smirked and spread his arms expansively. “Do you doubt our venerable Professors’ vast store of wisdom and experience in all subjects known to man, Hermione? For shame! I’m sure our esteemed Head of House has no need for such things. And what with her skill in Transfiguration… well. Still waters run deep and all that. What say you, Forge?”

“Minnie the Minx,” George mused, watching contemplatively as his Head of House chopped up her potatoes. “It does have a certain ring to it, Gred.”

“That’s disgusting,” Hermione said loudly, just as Katie and Alicia burst out laughing. Angelina looked rather grey.

“Besides,” Hermione continued, her righteous indignation overcoming her embarrassment. “Why are you two so cheerful? You’ll be seeing Professor Flitwick or Professor Snape, remember?”

George shrugged casually. “So? It’ll be a laugh, won’t it, Fred? Ask stupid questions, wind them up. And they won’t be able to give us detention.”

“It’ll be brilliant,” Fred agreed. “I’m hoping for Snape.”

“Snape!” Ron gasped. He had been sitting frozen throughout the conversation, but now the full horror had dawned upon him.

“But _why_?” Harry asked desperately. “Couldn’t we see any of the other teachers?”

Hermione looked at him sympathetically. “Apparently it’s fairer this way, since there are two male and two female Heads of Houses. They’re just – swapping their students. It was all in the notice... I still can’t believe you two didn’t actually read it.”

Neville leaned forward urgently, looking panicky and close to tears. “Do we at least get to _choose_ who we see? I mean, Professor Flitwick or… Snape.”

“I’m sorry, Neville,” Hermione said, laying a consoling hand on his arm. “It’s all being assigned randomly for fairness’ sake. Apparently the classroom and time for each meeting just appears on your schedule, and you just have to go and see who’s waiting for you.”

Neville slumped in his seat, defeated. After a few moments his lips started moving. He appeared to be praying.

Harry was tempted to join him.

Why, oh why couldn’t he have been in Ravenclaw?


End file.
